The weekend’s cloudless skies meant Monday morning dawned even colder than the last two weeks had been. Emily resisted the temptation to drive down the hill, but she did take a thermos of coffee with her to the library, knowing she’d need to warm up once she got there.
She knew Colin would be on campus interviewing people again. He was trying to narrow down who might have written the initials DR in Curzon’s appointment book as well as confirm who actually was in Vollum during the crucial hour of the murder.
Emily found it difficult to settle to work for wondering how Colin was getting on. But Svetlana was working diligently away on Emily’s notes, and she couldn’t sit there idly while her assistant labored. So she attempted to read. This was the last week of Paideia; next week she would have to give her desk back to the thesis student who occupied it during term time. She had to make the most of the little time she had left.
At noon Colin called her cell phone. ‘Got some stuff to run by you. Want to grab lunch?’
‘Sure. Commons?’
‘Better off-campus. We don’t want to be overheard.’
‘Meet me outside the library and we can walk up to Baumgartner’s.’
‘Mind if we drive? I’ve been pounding the pavement all morning. My feet are burning and frozen at the same time.’
Emily smiled to herself at the thought that she was more willing to exert herself than this fit young man. But she would humor him. His must be a taxing job, both physically and mentally.
When they had ordered, Colin wrapped his hands around his coffee cup and took a long sip. ‘I’m frozen to my core. I guess Bede isn’t that big as campuses go, but when you’re trudging from end to end in search of folks it feels like the Russian steppes.’
‘Interesting you’d choose that simile. It sounds like something I would say.’
He grinned. ‘I guess you’re rubbing off on me. Or maybe it’s all the Russian names and whatnot associated with this case. That plus the weather. But I guess we need a few feet of snow to make it really feel like Russia.’
‘That and a further temperature drop of about forty degrees. This is probably like October in Petersburg.’
‘Glad we’re not there, then.’ He shivered.
‘So has all your trudging paid off?’
‘Maybe. Nothing definite, but some stuff that’s suggestive.’ He pulled out his notebook, then paused as the waiter delivered their soup and sandwiches. He took a slurp of beef barley soup before continuing.
‘First of all, I’ve confirmed that Richard McClintock was in Vollum until at least eleven o’clock. Once I pinned Douglas Curzon down on his late visit to his wife, he told me he’d seen McClintock in the hallway on his way out.’
Emily’s heart gave a little jump, but she reminded herself that she must strive to be impartial. ‘So presumably Richard saw him as well?’
Colin nodded. ‘Worse luck for us, though – Curzon was definitely on his way out, and he was not covered in blood. McClintock even heard the victim call out something after him, so she must still have been alive at that point. No reason for McClintock to lie to protect Curzon – he’d be more likely to try to implicate him if he could.’
Emily frowned. ‘True. So they more or less clear each other?’
‘More or less. Though we don’t have a witness to McClintock leaving the building. We only have his word he left shortly after that without seeing the victim.’
So Richard could still be guilty. ‘How did he justify having lied about his alibi?’
‘Blustered a bit, then finally admitted he was afraid of being suspected because of his run-in with the victim earlier that day. He figured Douglas Curzon wouldn’t blow his alibi because he wouldn’t want to admit he’d been there himself. And McClintock didn’t think anyone else had seen him.’
‘In which he was correct. Sidney only saw his open door. So, in point of fact, we are no further forward, with those two at least.’
‘No.’
‘How about Goldstein? Did anybody happen to see him on campus that night?’
Colin held up a finger as he finished chewing and flipped through his notebook. ‘Not a definite identification, but your friend Teresa did remember seeing someone with a similar silhouette in the parking lot when she left for the night. She thought it might be the same guy who bumped into her in the library, but he was wrapped up for the weather so she couldn’t be sure.’
‘Hmm.’ Emily mentally ran through the list of everyone she knew who was on campus for Paideia. She couldn’t think of anyone whose build resembled Goldstein’s, but a slimmer man of similar height might bulk up in layers of winter clothing to resemble his weight. ‘So you’ll dig further on his alibi?’
Colin nodded. ‘And I did have another piece of luck. Potential luck, anyhow.’
‘How’s that?’
‘I found a student who was leaving the library at eleven thirty-five. She saw two men walking together. Crossing that circular drive—’
‘Eliot Circle.’
‘That’s the one. Heading toward Vollum.’
‘Did she recognize them at all?’
‘No. It was dark and she didn’t get close. But she got the impression it might have been a professor and a student. She said the professor one was kind of supporting the other, as if the student was drunk or ill. And she said the one who needed supporting looked taller than the other; he was kind of slumped, but their heads were still about even.’
Emily’s stomach went cold. ‘That sounds like Daniel. He’s tall, and he was in a state to need supporting that night.’
‘Yeah. But who was the older man? Douglas Curzon could pass for a professor, especially in the dark, but he’s about the same height as Daniel. McClintock’s shorter – could have been him – but why?’
‘Yes, why?’ Emily admitted reluctantly. ‘Richard’s not the type to go out of his way to help a student, and if he were helping him home to bed they would have been walking the other way.’ She drummed her fingers on the tabletop as an inspiration hit her. ‘What if … I’ve been saying all along someone was trying to frame Daniel. What if Richard killed Taylor, then found Daniel wandering around disoriented and decided to use him as a patsy? He led Daniel back to Taylor’s office, where they “found” the body. He got Daniel to try to revive her – thus getting him covered in blood – while he pretended to call for help. And incidentally wrote Daniel’s initials in the appointment book. Then he got Daniel out of there on some pretext – it wouldn’t take much given the state Daniel was in – and hightailed it back home, ready to come back in the morning and pretend he knew nothing about it.’
‘But then wouldn’t McClintock have had blood on his clothes? If not from killing Curzon, then from helping Daniel out of there after he’d touched the body?’
‘Probably. But have you examined his clothes?’
Colin stopped with his spoon halfway to his mouth. ‘Now that you mention it, no. We never followed up that far on the other suspects once we had Daniel in custody.’ He put down his spoon and slapped the table. ‘Damn, I could kick myself. Or Wharton. By this time McClintock could have disposed of his whole wardrobe without a trace.’
‘Theoretically, yes. But Marguerite always notices people’s clothes; if she and I put our heads together, I bet we can remember what he was wearing that day. So at least you’d know what specifically to look for.’
‘That would help, for sure.’ Colin resumed his interrupted mouthful of soup. ‘But look here – we still have to account for the statue as the murder weapon. You keep saying that it was used to frame Daniel, but if McClintock just happened to find him wandering around like you said, he couldn’t have planned that.’
‘Shoot. You have a point there. But the statue doesn’t have to have been part of the frame-up. Taylor could have taken it, as I suggested before, to bait Daniel or bribe him or something. Richard could have seen it and grabbed it on the spot. That would fit with him killing her in a rage rather than a planned attack, as you said the wounds suggested.’
‘True.’ Colin frowned. ‘I don’t know, though. It all seems so random. McClintock happens to go into a murderous rage against Curzon that particular night, happens to find a weapon to hand that will implicate someone else, flees the building and happens to run into the very person who will be implicated, who happens very conveniently to be in a fugue state so he can be led around by the nose and covered in blood. What are the odds? Even a planned murder rarely goes right on that many fronts.’
Emily’s stomach sank along with her favorite suspect’s likelihood. ‘I have to admit you have a point. I always felt the case against Daniel was too neat, too pat, but this one does kind of lean in the opposite direction. Especially since we know of no way Richard could even have known that statue belonged to Daniel.’
She brightened slightly. ‘Maybe Richard just happened to catch that tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.’ At Colin’s blank look, she added, ‘Shakespeare? Julius Caesar? Never mind. But isn’t it sometimes the case that real life is more improbable than fiction could ever get away with being?’
‘I guess. And I’m not ruling McClintock out, mind you. I’ll definitely examine his clothing. And check his handwriting against that DR entry. Goldstein too, while I’m at it. I’m determined to cover all the bases this time around.’ His face took on an expression she’d seen on his uncle more than once when they were on the trail of a killer.
They finished their meal and returned to campus, where they tracked down Marguerite in her office.
‘Margot,’ Emily said, ‘do you happen to remember what Richard was wearing last Monday? The day of the murder? When we confronted him?’
‘Bien sûr. I remember because his sweater was the same color as my dress. A deep bluish red.’
Blood red, Emily thought with a sinking heart. Oh, well, there was always luminol.
‘What about a jacket?’ Colin asked. ‘Or overcoat? Anything like that?’
Marguerite wrinkled her nose. ‘Richard has only the one sportscoat, a disreputable brown corduroy that sags and bags in all the wrong places. And in this weather he wears a parka – navy blue with a fur-lined hood.’
Colin gazed at her in admiration. ‘What a memory,’ he said. ‘We should recruit you for the force.’
Marguerite gave him a mischievous smile. ‘I will send you the bill for my consultant services.’ His eyes widened, and she chucked him under the chin. ‘Do not derange yourself, mon petit. I am joking.’
Colin reddened and cleared his throat. ‘Well, uh, thank you for your time, Professor Grenier. I’d better be going.’ He fled with all decorous speed, leaving the two women to share a chuckle in his absence.
‘Go easy on him, Margot,’ Emily said with a grin. ‘He’s going above and beyond for me.’
‘Such a young and fresh face, I could not resist. But I will not torment him further. I would not want to bring the wrath of your Luke down upon my head.’
Emily returned to the library, where she encountered Lauren in the lobby.
‘Oh, hi, Emily,’ Lauren said. ‘I was hoping to run into you. I was wondering if you could recommend a book on the psychological profiles of Dostoevsky’s characters. After we talked at your house at dinner and again the other night, I’ve been thinking about that some more, and I’d like to see what’s been done in that area.’
‘That’s more along the lines of Daniel Razumov’s research than mine,’ Emily replied. ‘But I’m sharing his table at the moment, and he obviously can’t use his library books while he’s in jail. Let’s go see what’s on his shelf.’
As they passed through the periodicals reading room on the way to the south stacks, Emily said in a low voice, ‘This is still pretty hush-hush, but I think Oscar’s prospects for a tenure-track job may be improving. Unless I’m very much mistaken, a certain little-loved department head is on his way out.’ Richard might or might not be guilty of murder, but he was certainly guilty of plagiarism, and that would get him fired.
Lauren’s eyes widened. ‘Seriously? How intriguing! I don’t suppose you can say any more?’
‘Not just yet, no. And don’t mention it to anyone else – not even Oscar, for the time being. Nothing is settled yet. But I intend to see it settled by the end of the week, before I go back to Stony Beach.’
Lauren put a conspiratorial finger to her lips, eyes sparkling. Just at that moment they rounded a bookcase and came within sight of Emily and Daniel’s table. Emily’s eyes were confronted with a scene that her brain took a moment to absorb, it seemed so improbable in that setting. And when she did absorb it, it was all she could do to keep her self-control. Would the past never let her be?
On the far side of the table, Svetlana was backed up against the window, face averted, struggling to free herself from the clutches of a man in a tweed jacket with slicked-back hair. His face was not clearly visible as he strove to mash his lips against Svetlana’s while she turned her face aside to avoid him. But that jacket and hair could only belong to one person.
Sidney Sharpe.
The young man who claimed to be Daniel’s best friend in the world was making a highly unwelcome pass at Daniel’s beloved.
Emily called out, ‘Mr Sharpe!’ in the sternest tones she could muster while choking back bile. As she spoke, Lauren flew at Sidney’s back and jumped up to catch his neck in a chokehold. With her feet dangling six inches above the floor she couldn’t maintain the hold for long, but it only took a moment for Sidney to release Svetlana and spring away from her, smoothing his hair as if nothing had happened.
‘Svetlana had something in her eye,’ he said in his nasal voice, which wavered only slightly. ‘I was helping her get it out.’
‘Helping her, my eye,’ Emily retorted. ‘You were assaulting her. Lauren, will you please restrain Mr Sharpe while I call the police? I happen to know there’s an officer quite close by.’ She pulled out her phone and found Colin’s number while Lauren twisted Sidney’s arm behind his back. That girl must have had some serious martial arts training.
By this time Svetlana had recovered her breath and a modicum of her composure. ‘Please, Emily. Don’t bother. I’m sure it will never happen again.’
Emily paused with her finger poised to touch the screen. ‘Are you sure? This is a serious offense, you know. Even if he doesn’t try it again with you, there’s no telling who else he might assault.’
‘I … can’t face the police … not now. Not after …’
‘I understand.’ Emily slid her phone back into her coat pocket. ‘But you should understand this, Mr Sharpe – I will be reporting your conduct to Detective Richards. He won’t arrest you unless Svetlana changes her mind and decides to press charges, but he will be keeping a close eye on you from now on. As will Professor Hsu and I.’
Sidney actually managed a shaky smile. ‘Always nice to know one is being looked after. Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies – things to go, places to see, people to do.’ He pushed by Emily and scurried out of the room.
Emily hurried to Svetlana’s side and helped her into a chair. The girl looked ready to collapse. Emily knew from experience exactly how she must be feeling, and her gorge rose against Sidney.
‘Are you sure you’re all right? He didn’t hurt you?’
Svetlana shook her head. ‘No. He’d only just cornered me when you came in. Thank God for your timing.’
Lauren gave a low whistle. ‘That is one curious customer,’ she said. ‘Caught red-handed and no admission of guilt. Hardly even seemed to realize what he’d done or what kind of bullet he’d dodged with his victim refusing to press charges.’ She turned to Svetlana. ‘Do you know that guy?’
Svetlana shuddered. ‘Oh, yes. He’s a … a sort of hanger-on. Of my boyfriend, Daniel, primarily, but now I’m starting to think maybe it was partly about me all along.’
Emily pouched her lips in thought. ‘I wonder … Of course you’re very lovely, Svetlana, and any man might be interested in you for no other reason than that. But I wonder if Sidney doesn’t see you as part of Daniel’s world – his property, as it were – and he’s trying to slide into the empty space Daniel has left behind.’
Lauren’s eyes brightened with the thrill of discovery. ‘Trying to take over Daniel’s life. Because he really has none of his own. That’s a fascinating thought. Kind of reminds me of Smerdyakov with Ivan. Don’t you think, Emily?’
‘Good point.’ Gears clicked together in her mind. Smerdyakov had constructed a fantastical scenario in his mind and acted according to what he believed Ivan Karamazov was asking of him. ‘Of course he’s in a different book, and Raskolnikov was really guilty. But I wonder …’ She realized she was babbling unintelligibly. ‘Svetlana, if you’re feeling up to walking, I think you’d better take the rest of the afternoon off and lie down.’
Svetlana nodded feebly and stood, pushing herself up with her hands on the desk.
‘We’ll walk you to your dorm,’ Lauren said. ‘Just in case.’ She and Emily each took one of Svetlana’s elbows and helped her out, reserving further comment until they could be alone.